


Return to Base (Part of the My Roof, My Rules series)

by disingenue



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Artist Clarke Griffin, Bisexual Clarke Griffin, Clexa, F/F, Lexa is Neurodivergent, Mario Kart, Modern Setting Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Protective Lexa (The 100), Useless Lesbian Lexa (The 100)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:40:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24855499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disingenue/pseuds/disingenue
Summary: Lexa gets laid. Somehow.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin & Lexa, Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 4
Kudos: 156





	Return to Base (Part of the My Roof, My Rules series)

"Fair warning to absolve us of liability," Lexa announced as they approached the door of her suite, "Titus is very wary of guests in our place. He is not dangerous, just afraid. If you just ignore him, he will get comfortable with you with his own pace."

"Oh-kay," Clarke agreed, slowly and nervously. 

"I would not bring you here if you were in danger, Clarke. If you feel uncomfortable, I will put him behind his gate."

For some reason, that made her feel better. Lexa turned the key, and cracked the door. After a few moments, their ears were greeted by the scrabbling of nails on hardwood and a burst of growling and barking. A cobby grey nose jammed itself through the door. 

"Shut up, Titus," Lexa commanded the beast, pushing the snout back with a knee. "Sit." Glancing back to Clarke, she motioned for her to stay where she was, slipping inside and shutting the door for a moment. When she opened it again, beckoning Clarke inside, the dog was behind a gate in a room down the hall, twirling about with a large bone in his mouth. Stringy drool descended from his jowls. 

"He will behave," Lexa assured her, toeing off her boots. "This is my place," she announced, glancing expectantly to Clarke. It took Clarke a moment to clue in that she was probably to take off her shoes. Reaching down, Lexa collected them and lined them up tidily on a rack by the door. 

"Come see," Lexa invited her, taking her by the hand and leading her down the short front hall to the main living space of the one-bedroom, flicking on the lights. It was immaculate. Clarke felt an instantaneous pang of shame, thinking of her own cluttered place. 

"Oh my-- wow, it's so... _clean,_ " she observed inarticulately as she gazed around. It was a minimalist setup. Spartan, even. In all honesty, it looked like a home staged for an open house, rather than a place someone actually called their home. The few clues to Lexa's identity lay in the muted decor, the large basket of dog toys in the living room, an a meticulously-filled dry-erase board on the fridge.

"Pathologically clean," Lexa assured her, as though she could see the mental comparisons racing through Clarke's mind; an attempt to dispel any inadequacy Clarke might be feeling. "Would you like some water?" She offered. "Or coffee?" _Who drank coffee at eleven at night?_

"Mmm," Clarke pursed her lips unsurely.

"I have nothing sweet," Lexa told her apologetically, "Like cola or juice. Oh! I have flavored sparkling water," she recalled, pleased with herself. Now, that _did_ tempt Clarke. 

"Yeah?" 

Lexa was cracking the fridge open. Clarke was less surprised this time to spy perfectly-oriented foodstuffs and uniformly-stacked tupperware. A can of some blackberry-flavored sparkling water was passed to her. "Would you like a glass, or do you drink it from the can?"

"Can is fine," Clarke told her cheerfully, accepting the drink and snapping it open. Sipping it thoughtfully, she padded into Lexa's living room, looking around. She couldn't think of anything to say with other than that the furniture was nice and that it was extremely, extremely clean, but she didn't want to belabor that with Lexa. Freezing on the area rug, she turned guiltily back to Lexa, who was watching her from the kitchen. 

"Is it okay if I take this over the carpet?"

"Sugar-free drinks are extremely easy to clean from carpeting," Lexa informed her, "because they don't leave sticky residue-- nevermind."

"You have a Nintendo Switch?" Clarke ventured, _finally_ spying something to make conversation of.

"Yes," Lexa observed, her eyes lighting on the console as she moved into the living room. "I highly recommend them. They are portable," she told Clarke, removing the console from its base demonstratively. "I take it to work sometimes, and to waiting rooms, to kill time. I got a good case for it," she continued gesturing to the case lined up next to it. "It apparently doesn't take falls well, but I haven't dropped it yet. And Nintendo is a developer that puts out a good collection of games for either group or solo play... Would you like to play Mario Kart?"

Clarke blinked, speechless for a short moment. She was scarcely done congratulating herself on breaking the awkward silence and now, she was beginning to suspect that she had been invited back to Lexa's place purely on the intentions that she would meet Titus and play Mario Kart. Raising her drink nervously, she opened her mouth, prepared to commit to a few rounds of Mario Kart, when they were interrupted by a moaning sound from the bedroom. 

"Shit... Titus," Lexa realized, her hands flying to her head guiltily. "Sorry, I completely forgot to let him outside," she called, already halfway to the bedroom. "Clarke? I'll be back. Please just make yourself comfortable." Clarke heard Lexa offering her apologies to Titus in the bedroom. The front door creaked open. "If you can figure out how to set up the Switch, you can be Player One!" The door swung closed. 

Clarke wandered to the kitchen, feeling both silly and awkward. Her two least favorite things to feel. She had thought their date had been going well; that Lexa intended to take things further-- but maybe Lexa had not caught her drift? Either that, or she had not caught Lexa's? She had assumed it obvious that most people took a date back to their place with the intent of, well... getting it on. That was a "script". But then again, was it a "script" to have sex on the first date? Maybe only for a certain 'type' of girl? She probably didn't want to project that image of herself to Lexa anyways. Maybe Lexa had assumed she wasn't the kind of girl to have sex on the first date. She was probably just trying to treat Clarke courteously. Or maybe-- _maybe_ Lexa simply didn't want to get it on with her tonight, for any number of reasons... She should just shut up and play the stupid Mario-Kart.

The door burst open, saving her from her own racing mind. She heard Lexa putting Titus in the bedroom. She should probably go back to the living room and look like she was setting up the TV rather than freaking out in the kitchen. As she set her drink on the counter and turned for the living room, she whirled and ran straight into Lexa. The brunette caught her swiftly, stepping back from her a bit to look into her eyes. 

"Oh my god, sorry--" Clarke stammered. Here it came. She was probably turning beet-red. The look on Lexa's face gave her pause. The woman looked... Less distracted. Focused on _her,_ all of a sudden. 

"Is it okay if I kiss you," Lexa inquired in a soft, earnest voice. Mario Kart had been scratched off the Agenda, apparently.

" _Yes_ please," Clarke responded with boundless welcome. With no further delays, Lexa was brushing a hand up against the back of her neck and brushing her nose against Clarke before engaging her in one of those holy-shit-make-your-lips-tingle kisses. Clarke leaned against the counter, welcoming Lexa's tongue when it sought access to her mouth, reaching around Lexa's shoulders with a liberated whine as their bodies pressed together. When a hand traveled to her back, she opened further to Lexa. When they parted, Lexa took her hand, leading them to the couch. When she sat down, fixating Clarke with those imploring green eyes, Clarke slipped onto her lap, her dress riding up as she straddled the woman, leaning in for another kiss. 

It was Lexa who peeled herself away first, wide-eyed, lips swollen. Her fingers trailed up and down Clarke's zipper, the other cupping her ass. 

"Clarke, do you want to have sex," she implored, her voice raw with arousal, her tone unsure. "Because if you don't, I think it's best that we stop kiss--"

She was silenced swiftly by Clarke's insistent mouth, and she groaned, her hand dropping from Clarke's back. Patience waning, Clarke reached awkwardly behind her to move the hand up to the top of her zipper and Lexa obliged her, fingers finding the pull and undoing the back of the dress. Leaning back for a moment, the blonde shucked the dress off with Lexa's clumsy assistance, her fingers going to Lexa's buttons to make short and precise work of them. She worked with her hands, too; she was an artist, after all. 

Lexa flopped back onto the couch for a moment to appraise Clarke's lace-encased breasts with unabashed awe, eliciting a smile from Clarke as her gaze took in the large stag centered on the brunette's chest, with antlers that disappeared beneath the straps of her simple sports bra. Enjoying this far too much, Clarke watched with adoration and amusement as she undid her clasp, letting the garment slide off her body.

“You have beautiful breasts,” Lexa told her frankly. “But I try hard not to look at them out of respect for you as a person, and also because though they’re objectively attractive, some women with large breasts are self-conscious—“

“Shut up, Lexa,” Clarke husked in genuine impatience. 

Lexa cut herself off obediently, recalling her task. Lowering her lips, she pushed Clarke’s breasts gently up and together, dusting the tops with soft kisses that gradually grew into hotter, wetter, open-mouthed one’s. 

“Ohh,” Clarke sighed as she leaned into Lexa needily, transfixed— the sight of her, face relaxed in bliss, running her lips over the contours of her cleavage. Her thumbs stroked their sensitive undersides as she moved her face lower and Clarke straightened higher. The brunette turned a straining nipple into her mouth and they both hummed in relief. Clarke’s hips worked slowly against Lexa’s pelvis as the woman lathed the sensitive flesh with her tongue, her fingers finding purchase on Clarke’s other nipple. She pulled and pinched it gently at it with those long fingers, teasing it to a taut point before tweaking it and rolling it with her thumb. Just when Clarke thought she couldn’t handle it for any longer, Lexa switched. Clarke was in ecstasy. 

She was so hot, she felt the heat rolling off her body like a radiator and she was certain Lexa could feel it too— she felt _everything_. Clarke felt swollen between her thighs. Growing impatient, she dismounted the other woman’s lap, reclining back onto the couch and pulling Lexa with her. The older woman descended on her again, their legs interlocking, leaning down to place another searing kiss to Clarke’s swollen lips as her hand wandered back up to knead a breast. 

Their hips had found a rhythm as they churned together, pushing their clefts snugly into one-another’s thigh. When Lexa drew back, she was open-mouthed, panting, pupils blown, a flush high on her cheeks. With great difficulty, she extricated herself from the shapely thigh, scooting down Clarke’s squirming body. The blonde was left only in a— now damp— pair of panties. Dragging her lips up the inside of Clarke’s thigh for the pleasure of it, the blonde’s clit throbbed as the green gaze directed itself with intent and hunger onto her shrouded sex. Then it traveled to her eyes. 

Leaning forward, Lexa settled between her legs, arms over Clarke’s thighs, inhaling deeply as she contentedly ran her lips over the top of the black lace. If it weren’t for the sheer weight of the brunette pinning her down by the thighs, Clarke would have been throwing the poor girl off the couch with her insistent squirming. Relenting only a little, Lexa settled down further, planting kisses up into Clarke's covered cleft, her eyes drifted shut in delight. The blonde freed her legs, throwing them over Lexa's shoulders urgingly. When the brunette came up to hook her fingers under Clarke's waistband and gently guide the sodden garment over her legs, she was flushed and panting. 

When Lexa ducked down again, Clarke resumed her position with her thighs over the muscled, inked shoulders. Under any-- _literally any--_ other circumstance, she might have been self-conscious about how she looked or how she smelled or simply how wet she was, but in this moment, she was too turned on to care. When Lexa's flattened, relaxed tongue came out to bathe her whole pussy from base to clit in a single lick, she yelped so loudly that she had to shove Lexa's startled head down between her legs again before the brunette could ask if she had done something wrong. 

"So good, Lexa," she moaned praisingly as the other woman worked her tongue over and over and over her sensitized folds, stiffening it, relaxing it, dipping into Clarke's entrance to lap up the wetness and then moving up to probe the hood of her clitoris carefully. Her hands had slipped under Clarke's ass to stroke and knead at it absently. Blinking her eyes open for a moment, their gazes met as Lexa closed her lips around her distended bud, gauging her reaction as she began with a gentle suck. Clarke's head dropped back into the armrest with a keening sound. 

"Lexa, I need you to put your fingers inside me."

"How many?"

"Two..."

An adoring groan left Clarke's lips and she felt the delicious stretch, canting her hips eagerly up onto Lexa's fingers. Lowering her lips to Clarke's clitoris again, Lexa lavished it with delicate sucks as she began to saw her fingers in and out. The litany of indulgent sounds spilling from Clarke's lips was nonstop until she felt herself reach that point-- _Was it going to happen_? Clarke's mouth worked and her eyes slipped shut so she could concentrate on the feeling; she wanted to come for Lexa. She just wanted to come, period. She realized her fingers had worked into Lexa's hair. _Was she holding it too tightly? Would Lexa take it personally if she couldn't make her come?_ The hand that had remained grasping a curvy buttock slid up to Clarke's thigh to idly trace patterns along the inside of it with blunt nails, bringing all of her awareness rushing back below her navel. _Jesus fucking Christ._

__

"Breathe," came Lexa's command, mumbled against her clit as her hand continued at its pace. She sucked in a huge breathful of air to replace everything in her empty lungs. Her mouth hung open. 

"Breathe," Lexa urged again between licks, prompting her to sip another breath. _Holy fuck._ She was just on the cusp. 

"Breathe," came the muffled reminder again, and she obliged Lexa. _It was going to happen, it was definitely going to happen, it was definitely going to happen..._

"Lexa, Lexa, holy fuck-- holyfuckholyfuckholyfuck..." The sensations rocked her body to the tip of every extremity, her hips stuttering as she shuddered. She felt Lexa watching her, groaning in empathy as her hand kept pace and her tongue gentled on her clit, helping Clarke ride it out for what seemed like... Goddamn ages. 

At last the brunette head lifted and her fingers slowed as she watched Clarke shiver and twitch breathlessly with the aftershocks, and she was moving up Clarke's form, they were struggling with the snap on her pants and helping her writhe out of pants and underwear in one frantic motion. Her hair was mostly fallen out of her bun by the time they got her bra up over her head and down her lithe arms. Even in the dim lamplight, her chest was vividly dappled pink from sheer stimulation, and she hadn't even been touched yet. Clarke reached for a taut, brown nipple, fingering it gently as Lexa hooked a thigh over her hip, squeezing a knee under the other one. Her gaze directed down, her jaw dropped open in breathless concentration as she spread them both open, aligning them with care and sinking down slowly. 

Both women groaned at the contact of the most intimate kiss, Lexa's hooded gaze wandering to Clarke's as she shifted her hips, finding a gentle rhythm. Splaying one palm across Clarke's pubic bone, she brought the other hand to her sensitized chest. "S-scratch gently," she stuttered, her eyes falling shut in pleasure as Clarke moved to trace her nails in idle patterns all over Lexa's chest, just as had been done to her earlier. Nodding quietly, Lexa released Clarke's hand to reach down and encourage Clarke's leg up, testing it, and resting it along her body, over her shoulder. 

Clarke's hand drifted to her own nipple as her nails continued to play across the flushed chest, moaning as Lexa began to course her lips up and down her calf, the motions of her hips becoming firmer and more insistent. She could feel their clits-- _she could feel their clits_ teasing together as Lexa shifted her hips with precise little movements, and she whimpered openly. Opening her eyes, Lexa wet her lips, panting out a warning while she still could. "C-can't talk now." She then dissolved into whimpers and labored breaths, her hips working harder, her eyes falling shut, snapping open again, skittering around the room. She thrashed her head, as though she couldn't handle the sheer sensation unless she moved it, tousling her burnished waves loose of the tie. 

"Can you come from this?"

"Nnn... C--," Lexa struggled inarticulately, her legs shaking violently. Her eyes closed as she strove to breathe regularly until her body stiffened in completion, shallow pants bursting from her lips. At last she sagged against Clarke's thigh, breathless, smiling from ear to ear, her gaze connecting fondly with Clarke's. Shakily, she drooped onto Clarke's chest with a groan, burying her face into the younger woman's neck, pressing kisses to it as she tried to regulate her breathing.

"We did that out of order. I haven't shown you my bedroom," she realized when her brain could make thoughts again. 

"Okay, off now. You're _heavy,"_ Clarke decided at length.

"Thank-you. I eat peanut butter."

"You're most welcome," the blonde smiled, rolling her eyes over Lexa's shoulder. What the woman took as a compliment was out of her control, she supposed. 

"Would you like to see my bedroom now?"

"That sounds better than the couch. Is Kujo going to be okay now?"

"His name is Titus. He should be fine."

Pushing herself off the blonde, Lexa helped her up, gathering her clothes up and leading her to the bedroom. The dog brushed past them, wiggling, bone clamped in his mouth, to go jump on the couch. Lexa insisted on hanging up their clothes immediately, _"Just please, Clarke."_ The blonde resigned herself to the bed, but Lexa was not done yet. Padding nude from the room, she came back with Clarke's drink, and a warm washcloth. When Clarke rolled onto her back, she dipped between Clarke's legs with it-- _Wow, that felt good,_ tossing it into the laundry hamper afterward and scooping Clarke up onto her chest.

Breathless, Lexa reached for her— THEIR drink, on the sill above the bed. 

“My mouth’s been on your genitals,” she reasoned out loud before taking a gulp. “You’ve been tested, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Me too. Because I didn’t do that in order, so I forgot to bring it up...”

They lapsed into silence for a few moments. 

“Not even one tiny crab,” Lexa probed in a low voice. 

“LEXA!” Clarke was slapping her chest, giggling. She felt Lexa’s grin widen against her forehead. 

“Alright. Well out you go. Just kidding,” Lexa added automatically, leaving no room for Clarke to wonder if she was serious. 

“It’s okay if I stay?”

“Yes, because I don’t work until 1600 tomorrow.” Lexa decided readily. “Also, because I’d like it,” she thought to add. "And Clarke?"

"Hm?"

"I'm sorry that sometimes, I get restless and hyper after sex. It's not that I don't care about you or that I'm bored, just... really tired, or stimulated, or both. I don't always know. That's why I have to run around fetching stuff for you afterward instead of holding you, which is what you probably need."

Clarke propped herself up to look into Lexa's eyes. "Lexa, there's _nothing_ wrong with that," she murmured reassuringly. 

"I know... just. Your needs are valid too. And we just have to be honest, and compromising, and a little creative," she decided slowly. 

The blonde head came down to rest on the stag again. They descended into silence for a few moments before Lexa shifted, free hand reaching into the bedside drawer. Running something over her for a moment, Clarke jolted alert, frowning as something cool and damp touched her cheek.

"Makeup wipes."

"If you clean me, does that mean you'll like me and want to keep me?"

"So what if I do?"


End file.
